Love Over Gold
by RobinRocks
Summary: Why would he discard a love so pure? Pure as gold, shining so bright it hurt his eyes to look, and so he fled to the darkness… Cowritten with Narroch06. WAS a songfic to Bryan Adams' Run To You. NOW a cowritten three parter. RobinxStarfire, RobinxSlade
1. Run To You

Anyone to whom this may look familiar… you are right. _Run To You_ has been up before.

What happened to it?

Well, someone has it in for me; whether it is just someone who seems to take pleasure in reporting me, or if it is just my misfortune to have been caught by the site admins _twice_ for posting up illicit song lyrics… My RobinxRaven one-shot song-fic _Underneath Your Clothes_ met the same fate…

So this _was_ a song-fic to Bryan Adams' _Run To You_. _Here_ is the same fic without the lyrics… and two extra chapters. When I first posted this up, my co-writer Narroch06 came up with an idea for a "sister-fic" to accompany it. That "sister-fic" is the second chapter which is also up – _Python Pathos_. Before we could get around to putting it up on its own… _Run To You_ got deleted from the site. So poor Narroch06 had to endure _more_ of my ranting, expletive-riddled emails… _BUT_ actually it was probably a blessing in disguise.

Because what **_was_** _Run To You_ is **_now_** _Love Over Gold_! A three-parter co-written RobinxStarfirexSlade fic! What do we mean by RobinxStarfirexSlade? You'll just have to read on to find out. Anyone who read this before should read it again; because Narroch06 added stuff to it, so it is better now…

Each of the three chapters focuses on one of the characters in the "triangle"; and so, we give you;

_Run to You_ – Robin

"I love you" was what she had said.

And he believed that. Simple words, profound meaning. Deeper than anything he wanted to be involved with. He just wasn't sure if he loved her back. He didn't know if he was capable of returning the love she was offering so freely and abundantly to him.

Which made him feel _worse_ about the whole thing. Because she deserved it; she _deserved_ to be loved. To be loved by someone who loved her equally as much as _she_ loved that person.

But _he_ didn't.

He simply couldn't.

He could not love _anyone_ that much.

Had he changed that much? Was he even _capable_ of loving at all? Was what he felt… simply _lust?_

For her? For _him?_

It made him ache; with pain, and with guilt. He could not stand to lie to her, yet the truth was even larger and more treacherous. He could not bear to see the shattered look on her face, to audibly hear the break in her heart.

He knew it could not go on, yet he could not bear to finish it.

He could not bear for her to _know_.

Only a few minutes ago… well, no, he had lost track of time now, but—

Well, she had turned those stunning green eyes on him, and she had tenderly clasped his hands, and she had tried to enter into his soul. She had _begged_ entry as those words had left her soft lips.

"_I love you, Robin…"_

And she had promised that her love would never die.

What had he said in reply?

He had _lied_ to her.

"_I love you too, Star…"_

He had fucking_ lied _to her.

Hadn't he?

_What she doesn't know can't hurt her,_ he had reasoned. _I **won't** hurt her_.

But he was hurting her more by lying. It was a slower pain, one that would eventually nibble away at them in tiny shearing pieces. He knew that; he did not _deny_ that. But he lied anyway. To her. To himself. He preferred the slow decay to the quick and soul-shattering truth.

It was a whole lot easier to lie.

Because she didn't know.

She didn't know that he couldn't love _her_…

…because he loved someone _else_.

He loved her too much to want to hurt her.

But not enough to tell her the truth.

The truth? The truth was that he was _afraid_ to tell her the truth. He was truly frightened by what he had gotten himself into; a trap in which he had ensnared _himself_. He even built it himself and it terrified him that there was no way out, that he had forgotten to construct an escape route into the self imposed cage. And yet he was perhaps not as terrified as he _should_ have been.

Because it was something he _needed_. Not _every_ night, just…

When it got too much, he would go to him. It was weakness; he knew that Slade loved to see it. He cursed himself for it, and yet he would go anyway.

Because Starfire just couldn't satisfy him.

_(Yes, that was it…)_

And that was something that he just couldn't tell her.

He needed it tonight. He lay there on her bed and all he could think was that he needed it tonight. Even…

"I love you", she had said. Starfire. She had opened her heart and her soul and had said that to him and had goddamn _meant_ it. She had said that it would never die, that she would _always_ love him, and he had lied and said it in return. That he loved her, and would always love her no matter what.

She had rewarded him then. She always did. She rewarded him for just being _alive_. She rewarded him because she loved him incomprehensibly. She was different; unlike anyone else he had ever met. She loved him for qualities he wasn't even sure he _had_. She loved him even though…

Maybe it was because she was alien to this planet.

Maybe it was because she was _blind_.

Maybe it was because she was _stupid_.

Naiveté. It didn't come into this equation. Robin scorned her secretly for not working it out, and yet he always dreaded the day when she _would_. He despised her incessant always-believing-the-best-of-everyone, and yet knew it was only _because_ of that that she had not figured him out.

Because it did not take a genius.

The excuses. The lies he so clearly spun her. The obvious lack of interest whenever she became intimate with him.

Like now.

In the dark, entangled in her sheets. Both naked and sweaty. She was moaning under her breath, on top of him, copulating against him…

…And he wasn't even looking at her.

Even during _that_, his mind was elsewhere. Planning his escape tonight. He knew how to work her. When this was over, she would be tired. She would want to sleep, and would curl up in his arms. He would lie there for a while, waiting until he knew that she was definitely deeply asleep, and then would slip out of her grasp and grab his clothes and dress and be gone.

He would be long out of the Tower by the time she awoke, noticing his absence. Perhaps even in Slade's arms by the time she would sit up, gasping his name and feeling the lack of his presence at her side.

That was probably what he would do tonight.

He heard her moan his name and retreated further into himself. He was so distant at these times; he could almost completely separate himself from his body. It had taken a while to master but now he switched off as soon as she touched him. Such superficial perception made it easier for him to contemplate his betrayal of her. To continue with it. It was easier to take what she was offering and pretend he liked it than to refuse it and have to explain _why_ he _didn't_ want it.

Because she would not understand. And he _had_ wanted it once.

A very long time ago.

He hated to cheat on her.

But he hated the thought of _not_ cheating on her even more.

Was she simply too _good_ for him? After being raised by the Dark Knight, was a "heart-of-gold" too sickeningly bright for him? _Bruce_ certainly didn't have heart of gold. He was _good_, yes, but not a "good" good person. He could be horrible sometimes; Robin knew. He had seen his mentor's nasty side. There was a darkness in and around him that was far more than his cape…

Was that why he had been drawn to Slade instead? Darkness? Why _Slade_ then? Why not _Raven?_

It was another thing he could not explain.

Other things…

She came before he did – not unusual in their relationship (though perhaps odd in anyone else's), because he simply did not pay attention – and collapsed against his chest, giggling weakly. Her long red hair was matted and tangled with sweat – where he had made an effort and half-heartedly ran his fingers through it – and was all over his chest.

He shifted uncomfortably, irritated by it tickling him, and by her lying on him.

She kissed his chin and he resisted the urge to push her away. It was not because he found her repulsive in any way – it was because he felt so overwhelmingly guilty. He hated these nights of passion with her simply because they made him feel bad. He would lie awake long after she had drifted off to sleep in his arms, and contemplate how much it felt – to _him_, at least – as though he was _raping_ her. Not in the literal sense, but in the sense of taking advantage of her.

Because he was getting a pretty good deal out of all this, the guilt aside.

She giggled softly again, whispering something in Tamaranean. He breathed in deeply and looked up at the ceiling.

"You are still hard," she whispered in his ear in English. "I can feel you inside me…"

Erotic talking. It had no effect on him unless it was _him_ whispering it in his ear.

"Mm." He shifted again, taking his weight on his elbows. He hated it when this happened. This required a lot more effort from _him_.

Effort he didn't have the energy or will to give.

She started moving against him again, building a rhythm to ease the tightness in him, and he sighed and worked with it.

His eyes were empty; his mind was full.

Not of _her_.

Of _him_.

There was no real feeling in his moan. He had given up trying to moan her name, because it sounded so fake and hollow in his own ears. She cried out as he spilled into her, and he took out his anguish on her by snapping at her to shut up. She blinked at him and he sighed and looked away.

Knowing that her love for him was so genuine made it all the more difficult for him. He hated himself for doing this to her; for being so underhanded, for taking advantage of her naiveté and sneaking around behind her back. Behind _all_ of their backs.

He sneaked away at night to sleep with his sworn arch-enemy.

He still hated the man, and by day worked unrelentlessly to stop him.

Yes, by day they were enemies; by night they were lovers. The line between their love and hate was thin, blurred, and at some points disappeared altogether. The seemingly distinct opposites were really nothing more than different ends of the spectrum, still undeniable connected at the core.

Perhaps it was because of the close proximity of such hate that Slade was not a kind lover; he was cruel and rough, hurting Robin deliberately to assert his power over him. Robin knew that Slade did not even _love_ him, not really.

Not the way Starfire did.

And yet he continued the throw Starfire's love aside for Slade's lust.

Why?

Because Starfire would love him unconditionally. No matter what he did, no matter what he said. He did not have to _prove_ anything; he did not have to _earn_ it. She was turning him into a spoiled honey bear; one that simply had to reach out for another scoop. No longer did he have to track the scent for days, or climb trees, or fight off the stings for a taste. He had lost the need to hunt, but not the recollection of how thrilling it was.

And that wasn't what he wanted.

He had made up his mind about _that_ a long time ago.

_(Yes, that was what it was…)_

Of course.

TT

Clasping the buckle of his yellow belt in almost-darkness, Robin looked over his shoulder at Starfire as she lay asleep, curled up on her side beneath the soft pink bedsheets of her circular bed.

He looked away, feeling bad.

He took his hands from his belt, feeling bad.

He neatened up his hair, feeling bad.

He crept out of her bedroom, feeling terrible.

But that was what Batman had taught him.

"_Never be affected by your emotions. They cloud your judgment."_

So he ignored it and continued with his stealthy escape. Go to the garage. Get his bike.

Go to Slade before he changed his mind. While the feeling was still right.

While he still had it _in_ him.

Why did he love Slade more?

Because he _had_ to. Because Slade would not accept anything less.

As for Starfire…

…Robin loved her too much to let Slade hurt her.

Far too much.

* * *

Like?

Although it _does_ make sense without the lyrics, the words of the song are up on my bio page (_can't_ get in trouble for that; there are _no_ rules against having song lyrics in your bio!) if you want to read them. You will see where some of the lines in the fic were inspired from.

BTW, the next two chapters – _Python Pathos_ and _Full Circle_ (latter not yet posted up) – are much less vague that the above; this was the original stand-alone one-shot, you must understand.

Well, be a sweetie, leave a review; and read on to _Python Pathos_…


	2. Python Pathos

Something a little more refreshing now; as _this_, I assure you, has been read by no-one but Narroch06 and myself.

This is the "sister-fic" to _Run To You_, written primarily by Narroch06 and added to by yours truly, and then it had some more added by both of us in various places…

Hope you like it! Narroch06 wrote some beautiful lines in here about poor Star's feelings and actions…

And so we present;

_Python Pathos_ - Starfire

Nothing changed the fear.

Though the circumstances and origins of it were vastly different, his trepidation still felt the same. Still cold, still heavy, still lounging in his chest like a pair of crossed paws that sank their icy claws into his heart when ever he thought about it.

About _her_.

About what he had done to her.

Robin lay on Slade's bed and tried to imagine what a starbolt to the gut felt like. Would it burn? Would the energy just go right through? Or only damage the surface? Would he bleed?

He had seen her fight enough to know the answers to these morbid questions, but imagining his early death felt cleansing; even if it did nothing for the claws in his chest. The talons in his heart.

He lay there and remembered that _other_ time, the last time with her. When he had also lain on a bed that was not his and been devoured from the inside out by guilt. When he had cut himself off from the sensations his body was being subjected to rather than face up to the truth of his betrayal. Of her, and of himself. He had simply trained himself not to feel… well, _anything_.

But now that things had been complicated…

His master materialized from the shadows and stood next to the bed. Robin continued lying face-up, with one arm draped across his face, the crook of his elbow providing a nice dark cave to think. He purposefully ignored Slade's arrival, knowing that he would not require anything from him.

Not today.

His voice reached Robin's ears even though he blocked out the sight;

"Today is the day."

"I know…"

"What are you going to do about it, Robin?"

"Just let me deal with it."

"Are you sure that is wise? Last time…"

"Last time, you tried to stop her and couldn't," Robin interrupted softly. "Just let her come, I can deal with it."

Slade's eye narrowed but he did not say anything. This was something outside of his territory. This problem, annoying and insignificant as it was to Slade, was still of paramount importance and severity in Robin's view. It was a problem of the heart, and Slade was not very delicate in handling problems such as that. And since it was this same girl that had pressured Robin back into his hands to begin with, he felt Robin was entitled to manage her as he wished. He just hoped that his trust in Robin's good judgment had been well placed.

"Fine, I will let you handle it however you want. Just know that this ridiculous game cannot go on forever. It has been five months already. If she comes back after tonight, I _will_ step in."

The emphasis on "will" was not a pleasant one. It was a promise of something Robin could not bare to think about.

Robin wanted to say something, wanted to fling his arm off of his face and say something gallant, heroic, something to defend her. Something to prove that, deep in him somewhere, he still loved her. _Anything_ to show his disagreement, but the fear on his chest just re-crossed its paws, licked its chops and pressed harder into his chest, stifling any movement he thought to make.

It was all going to be over after tonight anyway. He decided that he wouldn't do anything to hinder her mission this time. Afterwards there would be no recollection of who he was, or where he was, or who he was with. There would be no more confusion, no more dancing on the thin line of good and evil, friend and foe. Arch-nemesis and lover. He knew Slade would not be too disappointed. The love was unilateral to begin with, and he knew that Slade could always find a new apprentice; one without any damaging attachments to certain alien girls. He would not be too troubled by his loss, perhaps only disappointed that he did not get in one last sex session.

Robin sighed heavily at that thought.

It was sexual tension that had gotten him into this situation; his incontestable desire to be with Slade, and his complete lackluster attitude when lying with Starfire had brewed together a nasty volatile concoction. Deceptively stable when he with one component or the other, but when put together, when Starfire made her unfortunate discovery, it had a rather explosive reaction.

Chemistry had never been one of his strong points. At least not in a metaphoric sense. He had managed to somehow concoct something fatal without meaning to. Dropped it. Spilled it _everywhere_.

_Poison_.

Poison that had seeped deep into the roots of the love he had once had for her; that had killed those roots stone dead and spread upwards, taking hold of him, tearing him away from her. Damaging to the degree of her love for him. The deception on his part had cut her deeply, right to the quick, but that was not the reason she slipped out of the tower once a month to search for Robin. _That_ was accomplished by his speedy departure after she found the truth. If he would have leapt out of Slade's clutch when he heard her gasp of shock, if he would have cut the moan short that was coming from his throat, (a sound she had never heard when pleasuring him) and looked at least the littlest bit remorseful, she would have forgiven him. Her heart was so large, that she had already formulated excuses for him to use, already decided not to jump to conclusions. She had already forgiven him when she saw him meet Slade in the city, and later when she saw him begin to remove his clothes in front of the dark man. She planned to forgive him instantly when he saw her, remembered who he was, turned away from Slade and walked back to her questioning out loud, with a sheepish apologetic grin; "What in the world was I thinking? I belong to the Teen Titans, I belong to _you_, Star".

But he didn't. He stared guiltily at her, his large sad masked eyes showed remorse not for his unwise choice, but for her knowing. He chose to stay with Slade. He did not even try to argue with himself, it was as if he knew that she would one day find out, and had already decided on the outcome of that confrontation.

He was sad that he had hurt her, sad that he led her on without meaning to, but he was not sad that he could not be with her. He was not saddened by his choice of lovers, only that now she knew about it.

His unhesitating acceptance. His ability to just _drop_ their entire relationship in an instant while she flailed around trying to gather up the pieces. Then his departure. His quick and severing goodbye, one that left nothing to question.

"Starfire, I'm sorry; I didn't want to hurt you. But I _did_, and I…"

He had looked away briefly.

_I never meant for you to find out…_

She had simply stared at him. He hadn't voiced it but she _knew_. She had awoken that night – that _last_ night – and found him gone and known then that something was wrong. Had a terrible feeling that she would be returning to Titans Tower without him that night. And then she had found him – in the arms of a man he claimed to hate. She had not felt anything but… _love_ for him, even then.

Love, and pity.

And then he had looked up again and even through his mask she had seen the hardness in his eyes.

"I'm leaving, Starfire."

Again she had stared. Reached for him with a single shaking hand. He had stepped back swiftly, as though he thought she was going to fasten it around his throat and choke the life from his filthy, lying body.

The hand had dropped to her side. The eyes had begun to overflow. Still his cold expression did not change.

And then, as though he felt he _needed_ to explain;

"We both know I can never go back. I can't stay, Starfire, not _for_ you, or _with_ you, or… I have to go. I have to go with him."

She hadn't understood. Hadn't understood why he couldn't stay. _Still_ couldn't understand. She was ready to forgive him. Ready to kiss the mouth Slade had kissed. Ready to hold the body Slade had held.

She would have forgiven him _anything_.

But the only thing she could not forgive was his leaving.

"Thankyou for everything, Starfire. Goodbye…"

He had turned and walked away from her. Hadn't looked back at the girl he had once loved, and who still loved him.

_She still loved him._

For it was not _him_ that she could not forgive.

It was his _goodbye_.

It was more than she could bear, and the heavy stone that had been lodged in her throat the whole time she followed him dropped into her stomach and released a deluge of tears. He walked away with Slade while she wailed for him. He stumbled away with his head down, each of her shrieks making him flinch and slow, but he never stopped. He never looked back. He had left her for Slade.

It was that calm acceptance that their relationship was over that drove her mad. While she cried, and screamed out thousands of raging emotions strung into one wavering heart wrenching sound, he left.

After his departure nothing could pull her mind away from the mouth Robin was not kissing, the feet that were not running toward him, the eyes that no longer beheld him, and the hands that were not touching him… She found no peace back at the tower when the rest of the team tried to comfort her. No peace when they started to search for Robin again – _she_ had already given up, for she knew that goodbye had been final. No peace in the gourmet honey mustard sauce placed before her by Cyborg. No peace from Raven's willingness to talk with her. No peace from Beast Boy's jokes that for once could be considered funny. They each tried to help her in their own way but it was useless. She wandered through the tower like a restless ghost, lethargy and heart ache making her small. Vaporous. Insubstantial.

Everything reminded her of him. The gym, where they had often sparred together (she had always beaten him, but was that because she had an unfair advantage over him, or because he had _let_ her win?). The garage, where his shining crimson R-cycle sat, and had been there since Cyborg had retrieved it from a back alley in Downtown Jump City where the Boy Wonder had unceremoniously ditched it before meeting Slade, and had left it after leaving with him. His hair gel still sat the shelf above the sink in the bathroom. His toothbrush still sat in the rack. His facecloth was still there. In his room, all of his things were exactly as he had left them; in his wardrobe, all of his spare uniforms hung neatly. In the kitchen his personal coffee mug – black, with a bat on it, bought for him one Christmas by Cyborg – still sat on the sideboard. On the memory of _Super Ninja Fury_, his highest score was still recorded, his name flashing over it in crimson block capitals.

In fact, if a stranger had been in the headquarters, there would have been no reason they could have found to disprove the fact that Robin was actually still living there. His former team-mates had done nothing to erase the evidence of his once full-time presence.

But Robin was not there. Not anymore.

And if any of them knew it, it was Starfire.

She pined for him in the worst way; wanting him terribly even though she knew he was a traitor and a liar. She felt so dirty whenever she thought about all the many times they had made love, yet also pointed out (to herself) that he had never been the one to engage it. No, it was not that; it was the knowledge now that, in between their little love sessions, Slade had been having his share of _her_ boy too. She wanted him, but despised him too, for being so filthy and contaminated. Her shadowy longing eventually converted her passion to fever, so that her affection was closer to an affliction. It literally beat her down at night, when she would lie curled up beneath the covers to muffle her sobs, remembering the comforting warmth of him pressed against her back, one arm draped over her tiny waist, breathing against the back of her neck as he slept. And long before she was fully awake she felt the longing, bitter and tight around her chest as it dragged her back up in the morning, her face stained with the tears she had shed the night before; evidence that the alien princess had cried herself to sleep once again. But at some point her lethargy dissipated on its own accord, and in its place was the burning stone that she had swallowed the day he left. It heated up until it seared inside her, moving up to somewhere around her heart until she couldn't take it anymore and the lassitude was replaced with a wilderness, the focused meanness of an avalanche that only observers can claim to be an uncaring natural phenomenon. Its victims on the other hand, in the face of its rawness and savageness know for a fact, right before they take their last breaths, that the overwhelming power of this nature can only be calculated and personal.

It was this domineering sensation that sent her flying out of the tower as regularly as the moon in search of the boy for whom she believed she had been born into this world. She searched relentlessly, the unnatural energy fueling her and somehow guiding her. Where Raven's telepathic abilities, Cyborg's scanners, and Beast Boy's nose did not work, her unexplainable desire did. She unerringly was able to seek him out, abnormally drawn to him like a homicidal magnet. Starfire was energized by the details of her mission. She stalked him. The burning stone in her chest never failed to point out his exact location, and she only went charging after him when she had this ability, smashing anything and anyone who got in her way. A specter of green glowing energy, a fizzing and spattering will-o-the-wisp charged by a good ten thousand volts of pure insanity. When the lodged stone glowed red, any contact with him was better than none, and since she could not get his love, (and the chance that he did not think of her at all was unbearable) then she settled for his fear instead.

Once a month, exactly to the same date, this mood overtook her. The first time it happened, she had unexpectedly found Slade's cleverly hidden lair and began to _blast_ away the significantly more powerful robot defense systems. It was like ripping through tissue paper – _wet _tissue paper – in light of her sudden shark-like intensity. And when a surprised Slade leapt up to contend with her, she simply blew past him and went straight to Robin.

Luckily for him, the insane calculated violence that had sustained her until that point instantly petered out when confronting her actual target. She had proven thus far to be the world's most incompetent killer. Awed by the mere presence of her victim, she trembled violently and her starbolts, and hammer swings, and punching jabs were all clumsy. Her attempt was easily thwarted by a simple wrist grab from behind, a quick tackle to the front, or a soft clip on the jaw, for as soon as Robin raised his hand against her, tried to defend himself from her, the rage flew backwards into her face and dissipated as quickly and mysteriously as it came; the stone cooling and becoming once again the harmless lump in her throat. She neatly folded up on the floor and wept cleansing tears in front of him, while Robin blinked in surprise at her sudden change, and then quietly backed away from her sobbing form until both he and Slade were gone again.

Until the next time.

Like today. Robin knew she was coming. He always did. He remained where he was, his eyes shielded by his arm. He could hear the crashing and rending of metal, and sprinkled over the harsh grating white noise was Starfire's classic twinkling of energy balls, bouncing and bursting like cheerful green bubbles; only with more chaotic results. Then it was all quiet and he could feel the slight burning of a paralysis element nipping at the ends of his hair like the animalistic buzz of intuition before a storm; he could feel the crisp hair at the nape of his neck prickle and stand on end. Clearly Slade had been unable to stop her this time too. Or maybe he had just stood aside and let her pass. Still he refused to move. He refused to look; refused to stare into her hollow pleading eyes and remember that he was the cause of it. The fear changed tactics and without removing a single claw subtly shifted to guilt.

He had lied so that she wouldn't be hurt. But just as she now was compelled to seek him out, he was forced to return to Slade. It was an unexplainable phenomenon that made them look for things that would only hurt them, but neither one could think of resisting its call. It was impossible. And since Robin understood this, he had finally accepted responsibility for what he had done to Starfire.

_Either she will kill me, or she will drop dead herself. Either I am to live in this world on my own terms or I will die out of it. One or the other. Me or her._

"Me or _you._ **Choose." **

He spoke aloud. Even with his arm still covering his eyes he knew she was standing right next to the bed. Knew she was poised to strike him. He could hear the effervesce glow and smell the gray smoke that clung to her clothes. He could see her outline clearly in his mind, a haunting silhouette of her former radiance. Her perfect shape, full and then slender in all the right places, her beautiful eyes, her shining auburn hair… five months since his departure and he could not bear to look at her because he knew that she was simply not the same. He could not stand the guilt.

_What had he done to her?_

Then he felt something sharp (_knife, sword, bayonet_) come down heavily on his shoulder, angling off of his collar bone and sinking into the pillow next to his head. He jerked and gasped in pain, but did not move his arm, nor open his eyes. The knife was yanked back out of the pillow and Starfire raised it again, this time holding it with both hands as though sacrificing him to a god (_to X'hal_), ready to plunge it straight into his heart. But try as she might, Starfire found that she could not get her arms down a second time. The ball joint in her shoulder had stubbornly calcified in place and she was stuck. Ten seconds passed, then twenty. At thirty seconds Robin knew he had won back his life and slowly removed his arm, his gaze traveling to her strung up arms, and then her tear stained face which opened like a fan when their eyes met.

_Oh… I had forgotten how beautiful he is…_ Starfire thought as she stared at Robin's unveiled face.

He shifted uncomfortably, the wriggle of his body spilling more blood; he opened his mouth to say something to her, but his intake of breath was interrupted by Slade's deep timbre as his sarcastic yet obviously angry voice cut through the tension like the knife that was still dripping with Robin's blood;

"Is there something I can _help_ you with, my dear?" His voice sent shivers through her, but not the same kind it sent through Robin; nor was it forming the same kind of _words_. "It seems to me as though you are trying to kill my apprentice," he stated matter-of-factly.

His bluntness, and rather unsettling arrival, enticed the python back into Starfire's eyes, but his statement surprised her. She loved this boy more than life itself. More than her life, in fact she loved him more than _his _life. She could not control the beast within her, had no sway over her own anaconda love, she had no more fears, or wants or self left that was her own. Everything was tangled in its coils, so it was with true honesty that she replied;

"I will try not to, but I cannot give you a for-certain promise."

And then she smiled at Slade, something that was supposed to be natural and ordinary, but the awkwardness of it on her face let Slade know that there was something truly awry in the girl. But he was not impressed.

Death always smiled.

Robin swallowed and looked away from them. He saw Starfire's ditzy smile belying the fate she was planning to unleash upon Slade. Did he care? He certainly did not think he was going to jump up any second now and stop the Tamaranean princess from ripping two emerald bolts from those eyes right through him. Had all these months of lying, loving and leaving simply turned him completely to stone? He found now that he was as emotionless as Raven always appeared to be; he could even think of his parents without getting a lump in his throat, something he had never been able to do as a Titan, and of course before that.

And Starfire? Did he care about her? He remembered Slade's promise. From just that day, and from months ago. The promise that had started this whole thing; _that_, and Robin's own cock.

Starfire was smiling. Robin knew that Slade was too. It was the way he was tilting his head slightly to the side. Robin knew him well by now.

Starfire's smile might promise death.

Unfortunately for her, so did Slade's.

And he was no hero anymore. Slade had made sure of that. So he wasn't about to step up and stop them; to leap in between them, his cape flying, his badge shining.

_No, folks! This isn't how we solve our differences!_

His arm slid back over his eyes and he instead focused on the pain in his shoulder.

Something he had deserved.

_Punishment_.

Starfire suddenly seemed to notice who Slade was for the very first time. She gazed hungrily at the man who had snatched Robin away from her, the one who slept in the same bed with him, the one who Robin chose over her. The jealousy flared out and loomed so large it made her quiver.

"Maybe it is you I should be killing, it is because of _you_ that he will not come to me, but he is my home in this world!"

By the end of the sentence Starfire was screaming hysterically. Her eyes and hands blazed with emerald fury. Her anger boiled and bubbled over within her—

Her turmoil was cleanly juxtaposed with Slade's short clipped reply;

"And _I_ am _his_."

* * *

I hope you liked that as much as I did when I read the original version all those weeks ago…

Well, leave nice reviews and you'll get something _very_ nice in return…

Namely _Full Circle_; the final part of _Love Over Gold_, and the part which focuses on Slade…

Some tasty RobinxSlade slash in there… :P

It's written and ready to go; you just have to tell us that you _want_ it! See that purple button down there?

It _commands_ you to click it!

- RobinRocks xXx


	3. Full Circle

Ten reviews. Not bad, not bad…

Not great either, but we'll live.

I don't have much to say here; except that Narroch06 and I will laugh at any flames complaining about the ending. :) This is the final part, and perhaps the part you have all been anticipating the most; the chapter which focuses on Slade. Ah yes, everybody's favorite one-eyed madman… Despite his status as the Uber-villain on _Teen Titans_, I don't think I have ever come across _one_ person who doesn't actually like him…

Oh, and all Starfire-haters can rejoice, because…

Anyway, Narroch06 and I now present to you the third and final chapter of _Love Over Gold_, known simply as:

Full Circle - _Slade_

_He had not stopped him._

Robin blinked once, slowly, as he continued to gaze up at the ceiling. He heaved a sigh, his thin ribcage drawing right in with the heaviness of it. He swallowed, his Adam's apple visibly moving in his pale throat. He grunted and obediently titled his head to the side as Slade nudged at his neck.

Still fully-clothed, he lay spread-eagled on the bed (the same one on which he had been lying this whole time) with his master on top of him, pinning him there. His mask removed, Slade was attacking his neck, passionately and heatedly devouring it.

Robin simply ignored him and his actions, staring listlessly up at the dark ceiling.

_He had not stopped him._

A few feet away, on the floor of the bedroom, out of the narrow, dim light of the single lamp, Starfire lay in a similar listless fashion to her former lover.

The difference was that Princess Koriand'r of Tamaran had a knife jutting straight up from her stomach, the blade submerged up to the hilt within her lovely body. Blood soaked and darkened her purple uniform, typical of the Tamaranean race.

Her green eyes were wide and staring, her mouth open in the scream that had fled her lungs as Slade had plunged the knife into her.

Robin had not stopped him. He had sat up in one sudden movement, his hand outstretched. He had cried the alien girl's name, only for his desperate, agonized cry to be drowned by her heart-rending scream as she had died.

But he had not _stopped_ Slade. Words did not have that kind of power.

He could only be glad that she had not suffered. She had died almost instantly. Slade had kicked her, sending the knife spinning from her hand as he caught her by surprise. As she had staggered backwards, Slade had grasped the knife, plucking it from the air, and came at her. She had looked up, her eyes blazing, two starbolts at the ready in her hands-

And he had stabbed her. Right beneath the ribcage, the length and angle of the blade reaching her heart. The starbolts in her hands and eyes had flickered out and died, she had screamed, and then tumbled to the floor and simply ceased to be.

Robin had called her name. But he had not _stopped_ Slade from killing her.

He _could_ have. He could have leapt up and kicked the knife out of _Slade's_ hand. He could maybe have landed a good strong kick or two, by which point Starfire would have recovered and come soaring back for Round Two.

Together, they could have beaten him. They could have beaten him mercilessly into the ground and walked out hand in hand. No doubt, even after she had come all the way here in a blinding rage just to kill him, had he leapt to her rescue and fought alongside her, she would have accepted him into her arms with no question.

_But he hadn't._

He had known Slade was going to kill her. Before she had even turned up tonight, he had known that this would be the end. _She_ would kill _him_, or _Slade_ would kill _her_.

She had tumbled to the floor, in the exact position in which she still lay, having had her short life brought to an abrupt end not even fifteen minutes ago.

And Robin had fallen back too, flopping back onto the bed in his spread-eagle, every last scrap of emotion he still had now abandoning him completely. That last act – the fulfillment of Slade's terrible promise – had caused his entire inner core to just up and leave, there and then. Even his tear-ducts seemed to have run dry, for not even a single tear welled in his eyes. He simply lay back and looked at the ceiling, as though the answer to his predicament was written up there.

Slade had dusted his hands together and stepped over Starfire and lazily made his way over to the bed. Robin had not been remotely interested in him, even when he lay down beside him, his arms folded across his chest. For a few minutes they had lain like that, side by side on the bed, Robin sprawled out and consumed by the emptiness that was storming through him, Slade smiling beneath his mask, sighing contentedly. That was _one_ less thing to worry about…

Robin had let out a squeak of discomfort as Slade had then rolled over and got on top of him, his substantial weight on his small chest making it hard for him to breathe. Ignoring him, Slade had pulled off his mask and thrown it aside, beginning to kiss Robin's neck.

The ritual had not progressed much. There was licking and biting now too, which was more than there had been five minutes ago, but otherwise…

Had Robin any emotion left within him, anger would have surged through him at this point. Slade was treating him with such disrespect, and treating Starfire's death with _less_ than that. He had just murdered the girl Robin had loved – who, regardless of his sexual feelings, was still one of his best friends – and now he had not only walked nonchalantly past her body, he also seemed to think it was perfectly alright for him to claim Robin for himself all over again. He did not try to comfort him. He did not even say that he was in the slightest bit sorry; indeed he showed no _indication_, spoken or unspoken, of it at all.

He simply used it as an invitation to take Robin for himself.

Once that would have made him angry. Not now. He did not have the capacity for anger any more.

Slade moved to his mouth, kissing him fleetingly. They were short, ravenous little kisses, touching lips in the same way that mating butterflies occasionally bump carelessly into one another at the height of their dizzy sexually-charged flight. Slade's kisses were rough and passionate, near-painful.

Still Robin did not react.

"You seem_… unhappy_…" Slade whispered, his lips moving against Robin's. He kissed him again, savoring the sweet taste of him. "Something troubles you, Robin?"

Following another steamy kiss, Robin averted his eyes from the ceiling and looked right into his master's single eye.

"_No_," he whispered hoarsely, forcing himself to speak. "I'm fine. Everything is… just fine…"

Another kiss.

"Excellent…" Slade continued to gaze piercingly down at him. "Then you will have the energy to kiss back, I presume?..."

His tone was dangerous but for all that Robin had been through, Slade did not frighten him. Not anymore. He had seen too much; _learnt_ too much about him to fear him anymore.

Slade's lips pressed to his again and again Robin remained listless and lazy, letting Slade do all the work. Furious, Slade bit him, blood spilling from his bottom lip. Salty copper filled Robin's mouth and he near-choked, pushing at Slade until he finally released him.

"Unless you want to go the same way as _her_," Slade spat, roughly wiping his mouth on his wrist, "you _will_ do as you are told, Robin!"

Wiping his mouth too, Robin gazed petulantly up at him.

"I'm not afraid of you," he said calmly.

Slade's mouth twisted into a wry knowing smile.

"That is because, dear Robin, I have given you no real _reason_ to fear me," he whispered, his lips pressing against Robin's once more. "You obeyed me out of fear for the _girl's_ life, never your _own_, because you knew – you have _always_ known – that I have no real desire to harm you. But believe me, now that she is out of the equation… well, I may need _another_ threat to keep you in line. Rest assured that it will be _your_ neck on the block this time around. Unless… you wish for another of your dear little friends to meet their maker at your expense…"

Shock-that-had-not-quite-yet-fled-him surged in. His selfishness had led to Starfire's death not even twenty minutes ago. He would _not_ be responsible for Raven's death too, or Cyborg's, or Beast Boy's…

"No!" He said hurriedly as Slade broke from him once again. "No, I'll… I'll do what you say… Just… no more of them… Please, no more…"

"Of course, my Robin…"

Enjoying the familiar pattern that blackmail always dictated on Robin's actions.

Their lips touched again and Robin opened his mouth in invitation. Slade took it, grasping roughly behind Robin's head. As usual, Slade was really hurting him, and as usual, his pained squeaks and pants were ignored. Slade's weight was crushing between his legs, which was starting to become extremely painful.

Pain. The one feeling that had not left him.

Slade broke from him with a gasp some five minutes later, needing to come up for air. Beneath him, Robin panted hard, pushing against Slade's chest.

"You're hurting me," he wailed pensively. Slade made an irritated noise and shifted off him.

Robin lay on his back, breathing hard, tasting blood pooling in his mouth again; and then, taking advantage of his sudden freedom, he sat up and got off the bed. Wiping his mouth again, he began to walk away.

"Where are you going now?" Slade asked him tetchily, rolling over onto his stomach and resting his head on his folded arms. Slade hated Robin going into one of these pensive, quiet moods. He was utterly intolerable to deal with.

"_Robin!_" Slade called after him, his voice taking on a decidedly-dangerous tone. "Don't ignore me!"

Robin did exactly that, crouching down in his white cotton T-shirt and worn black jeans at least a size too big for him. He kept having to hitch them up at the waist and he refused to wear a belt. Slade did not force him; it just made it easier for _him_ to get his pants down. But Robin crouched next to Starfire, then knelt, bending deeply over her. One hand grasped the hilt of the knife and his shoulders shook and tears suddenly returned to him as he began to sob. Not even looking, his other hand reached out, closing Starfire's eyes and screaming mouth before death could freeze her that way. At once she looked more peaceful, although still in a lot of pain. His other hand went to the hilt too.

"Robin, come here," Slade ordered. Robin quivered, choking and sobbing, and then shook his head.

"_Now_, Robin!"

Again Robin shook his head.

"You insolent little fucker…" Slade hissed at him, out of his ear-shot.

Furious, Slade got up off the bed in one sudden movement, grasping his mask in one hand. He put it back on as he moved towards the sobbing boy. Robin looked up, saw him coming and got to his feet, darting away.

Slade approached him threateningly, bending down as he swept past Starfire and jerked the knife from her body. Robin backed up against the far wall of the room, his back right up to a mirror, his masked eyes wide with fright.

That too had suddenly returned to him.

_His_ neck on the block now.

Slade wiped the blood from the blade off on the palm of his hand as he advanced upon Robin, slipping the knife itself into his belt. He grasped the front of Robin's shirt and wiped Starfire's blood down his face, getting it in his hair and deliberately forcing two fingers into his mouth so that he would be sure to get the taste of it.

"_Taste_ your betrayal of them, Robin," he hissed maliciously. "_Taste_ what you did to her…"

Robin pulled his head free, his tears washing away Starfire's blood where it was on his cheeks.

"_Don't!_" He choked. "_Please_…"

Angered by his pleading, Slade grasped him roughly around the throat, slamming him against the mirror behind him.

"_You_ did this!" He spat. "So don't beg or plead with me, Robin. Remember that _you did this_…"

"I didn't… didn't kill her…" Robin squeaked, struggling with Slade's strong hand at his neck.

"You as good as did it yourself," Slade hissed in response. "You knew of my promise. You knew what would happen, and yet you did nothing. You did not stop me… you just lay there. You _let_ me kill her, Robin. You could have stopped me, and yet you chose not to. So I would say you have a partial responsibility for her death, if not all…"

"That's not true…" Robin sobbed. "I _couldn't_… couldn't have _stopped_ you…"

Fury bursting forth again within him with all the force of a volcano, Slade banged Robin against the mirror again, knocking his senses offline for a second, and then threw him to the floor, where he landed in a heap next to Starfire. Quivering, Robin sat up.

"Slade, please—"

Slade whirled to face him, smashing the mirror with his fist in a punch that swung with the momentum of his movement. Robin gasped and shrank back, his eyes wide with fright.

It seemed that his emotions leaving him had only been a temporary condition.

"Don't you _ever_ plead with me again!" Slade screamed at him, his single grey flashing with the fire of hell. "You will beg for _nothing_ from me, Robin; nothing but _sweet release!_"

He stormed past him, so angry that he knew he should get himself away from Robin before he killed _him_ as well.

"Slade…" Robin reached for him, kneeling up, as he passed.

Ignoring him, Slade threw open the door to his quarters and walked out, slamming the door behind him.

Robin's hand dropped and he collapsed across Starfire's body, burying his face in her chest _(Ample as it was. And growing cold now)_,and sobbed and sobbed.

For her. For himself.

_For him._

* * *

_He had not stopped him._

Robin would not accept responsibility for what he had done. That he had, in effect, killed Starfire. Even if Slade himself had done the actual physical killing…

Was it because he was so stone-hearted that he could not understand why Robin was so upset? He had, after all, left Starfire, the alien girl he had once loved with by night, to come to _his_ arms. He had clearly chosen Slade's cruel "love" over Starfire's pure-as-gold one, and had chosen this path of darkness over the hero life he had led beforehand, so why cry now? Wasn't it a little late for those tears?…

He had chosen love over gold himself.

And Robin had most certainly known what he was getting himself into. Slade had made his promise from Day One. When he had first enticed Robin into his arms. Perhaps he had _bullied_ Robin into choosing him over Starfire, true, but Robin was a strong-willed person, daring and willing to risk a gamble on near-impossible odds.

If he had not truly _wanted_ to come to Slade, he _wouldn't_ have.

Robin didn't do _anything_ he didn't want to…

**000**

"_You understand what this means?"_

"_Of course."_

_Robin frowned at him, as though resentful of the question. Slade linked his fingers together and turned away._

"_I must warn you that I dislike compromise," he murmured. "You cannot have both. I hope you realize that."_

"_Is that an eventual outcome; or do you mean that you will not **allow** me to have both?" Robin whispered to his back._

"_The first. As much as I dislike the prospect of having to "share" you, greed often makes the man. If you feel that you are unable to give up your place on the team, then by all means remain for as long as you feel you need. Just remember where your loyalty lies, however, Robin…"_

_Robin seemed surprised._

"_What's the catch?" He questioned suspiciously. He rather thought this deal was a little too good…_

"_There is no catch, my Robin. There is, however, a promise." Slade turned back to Robin, his silver eye glittering icily. "Perhaps it would be best for you to maintain your relationship with the girl; keep up pretences, if you will. However – and I swear to you, Robin – if she tightens her grip on you; if she comes between you and I, if you suddenly decide that she is the one for you after all… I swear to you I will kill her where she stands. You have come to me and asked for this, and I have struck you a deal; you may have the best of both worlds as long as you remember when the end comes, you will be at **my** side, not theirs. You may allow the girl to love you, as long as you do not love her in return. You have asked, and I have provided; I will give you nothing more than my word."_

_Robin fidgeted nervously with his belt._

"_Robin? Look at me when I'm talking to you, please." The last word was sarcastic, indefinitely._

_Robin looked up at him, swallowing in apprehension. He was beginning to lose his nerve; beginning to question himself and his decision._

"_Do you agree to those terms?" Slade's tone was becoming more and more impatient._

_Robin tugged nervously at the collar of his cape._

"_W… well…" He looked down at the floor, and then, suddenly regaining his confidence, looked up at Slade again. "If I were to refuse, then you would not let me walk out of here alive."_

_Slade nodded his head once, very slowly._

"_And so, on those grounds, your answer is…?"_

_Robin hesitated again. Then;_

"_Yes."_

"_Good boy." Slade began to unbuckle his belt. "Good boy…"_

**000**

Alone and calmer, Slade sank into his chair, gripping the arm-rests. He found Robin intolerable sometimes; sometimes…

…he really felt like _killing_ him. It would be no trouble to do so. He doubted he would even feel any kind of remorse for the action. Choking him by slipping his hands around his thin neck. Suffocating him with a pillow as they slept side by side at night. Beating him to death while training. Slipping ground glass or poison into his meals. They were all murderous thoughts that had crossed his mind at one time or another whenever he looked at his small, naïve lover. Robin was not much trouble; he was quiet and well-behaved most of the time. He had _chosen_ for things to be this way and did not argue.

In fact, all of the times Slade had ever thought about murdering him… he hadn't actually _done_ anything to aggravate him. The times when he thought about it were when he simply looked at him and observed his innocence. Looking at the boy's sincere, pale, pretty face made him want to smother him that very night while he slept. Hearing his soft voice – his pleasant American drawl – or his neat little laugh made him want to strangle him.

He despised him simply because he could not bear to let him go. He did not want anyone else to have him, and so if that meant killing him, then so be it. He would rather see Robin in his grave than happy with someone else. If he thought Robin was being unfaithful to him then he would not hesitate to kill him.

It was that vow that had brought this whole business full circle. A promise of death that had been fulfilled. Slade had sworn to kill Starfire if Robin began to rekindle his love towards her. Eventually, in order to protect her and the rest of the team from Slade, Robin had left them, believing the danger to be minimized in his absence.

Instead it had been the thing that had _caused_ Starfire's death. By leaving with Slade he had broken Starfire's heart to the point where she had felt the same way as Slade did; that if _she_ could not have him, _she_ would kill him. So she had followed him here; he had led her right _to_ Slade.

And Slade had, of course, kept his promise. Five times of her appearing out of the blue with all the destruction-in-hand of a comet had been enough for him.

So he had killed her.

But where did that leave Robin now? The boy had trapped himself initially; he had begged to Slade for the compromise, Slade only agreeing on the terms that Robin discontinue his love for Starfire. Robin had shut himself off from her completely to protect her. He had _left_ her to protect her. It hadn't worked, and now that she lay dead…

…where did that _leave_ the little bird?

Surely he could not still love Slade now. Not after…

Slade's hands clenched into fists on the arms of his chair.

And if _that_ was true…

…Then there was only one thing to do…

* * *

The door to the chamber slammed open again and Slade swept inside. He closed it again, surprisingly quietly, and observed the scene before him.

Robin was lying on the floor, pressed right up against Starfire on his side, one hand clasped with her cool dead one.

His shoulders shook as he sobbed.

He was tempted to go to his belt for the knife there and then. Stab them both with the same knife. Let them have a true _Romeo and Juliet_ ending…

But he didn't.

He approached Robin. The boy sat up as he heard the footsteps, quickly jerking his head up. His frightened masked eyes saw Slade; and Slade saw the tears streaked down his bloody face.

Robin looked at him for a second or two; then wearily lay down again in exactly the same position.

Wedged against the beautiful body of his dead ex-lover. His dead best friend.

Slade cleared his throat impatiently.

"Robin…?"

Robin did not look up.

"Just leave me alone…" he muttered, sounding as though he was in tears again.

White hot anger welled within Slade again at the "order".

"_Get up_," he hissed.

Quivering, Robin declined his head violently.

What calm Slade had managed to cultivate drained from him completely. He was at Robin's side in less than three seconds, and had hauled him to his feet by his hair in less than five. Robin still clung to Starfire and so she was hauled up to, limp in Robin's arms like a rag doll.

Slade angrily disentangled Robin's hands from her and threw the dead girl back to the floor.

Still being held by his hair, Robin slammed his fists against Slade's chest with all of his strength, screaming in utter despair.

It hurt. A little.

Slade dragged him over to the bed and threw him onto it, letting him collapse in a sobbing, squeaking, gasping heap. He found stray jet black strands (and quite a lot of them) left behind between his fingers.

Robin wouldn't even look at him now. He had thought him _emotionless_, but clearly…

…clearly he wasn't. And he may not have been afraid of Slade before, but he was _now_. Terrified. Now that it had sunk in, and he had realized what Slade was capable of and willing to do…

Robin looked up at him, pausing in his sobs, with huge frightened eyes behind his mask. Slade reached for him and Robin shrank back.

And Slade knew it was over. Robin would never trust him again, not after tonight. He would fear him, be sickened by him, _hate_ him…

Slade would not have that.

If _he_ could not have Robin… then _nobody_ could.

He withdrew his hand.

"Fine, I will not touch you," he said, forcing his voice to a calm level. "But at least allow me to get you a drink of water to calm you."

He sauntered to the bathroom and got the glass from the shelf, filling it with cold water.

Out came the tiny bottle from his belt. A small amount of clear liquid resided in it.

Deadly poison enough to kill ten men. He could have just as easily stabbed him in the back, with his lover, but such a beautiful boy deserved a beautiful death.

He unscrewed the cap and…

…hesitated for a second or two…

…and then in it went, the whole content of it. Clear mixed with clear. You couldn't even tell…

"Here."

He pressed the glass into Robin's hand upon his return. The boy looked at him for a few moments and Slade saw what a mess he was and decided…

…that it was okay. For the very _last_ time, it was _okay_…

Robin put the glass to his lips and drank. He drank and drank and drank, only stopping for air once, and drained the entire glass.

Poison and all.

Lethargy first; then pain would kick in. Then death. It took around fifteen to twenty minutes.

_More_ than enough time.

He took the glass back as Robin flopped onto the bed, suddenly much calmer.

"Better?"

Robin nodded.

"Good." Slade smiled deeply. "It will all be over soon, my Robin…"

"What's _that_… suppos'd to mean?" Robin asked dazedly.

"You will know when the time comes… for now, allow me to _soothe_ you…" Slade removed his mask and resumed the position he had been in before Robin had got up off the bed and started this nonsense. He kissed him deeply and Robin lazily kissed back, becoming extremely sedated by the poison quickly ravaging his system.

Slade knew he was wasting time. He didn't have long; Robin would be dead within the hour. Within the _half_ hour.

But even though he had done the deed – sought to end Robin's life – he would not let him go so easily. He did not regret it, nor did he curse his haste.

But he was still going to get one last kick out of him.

Breaking from him, Slade slid his hands downwards to the hem of his white cotton t-shirt. Robin obediently put his arms up and Slade pulled it off over his head, wrapping his arms around the boy's small, bare torso. He kissed his chest, sucking and biting his nipples; and Robin squirmed and squeaked and arched upwards off the bed. Ignoring his whines, Slade moved downwards, kissing his taut flat belly; he fucked his naval with his tongue and Robin writhed violently, thrashing about underneath him at the feeling of it.

Slade savored every second of his slow erotic torture; yet knew he was on a tight schedule. He could not make it last for hours, the way he often did. He tried to relish it as much as possible because he knew it was the last time would ever touch Robin in this way and feel the reaction he always got in return.

He was beginning to wish…

No. No, he _wasn't_. Robin was safer dead; at least Slade knew where he was. At least he knew his thoughts were not of someone else. They _couldn't_ be.

He was safer six feet below the ground.

Slade moved lower, unbuttoning Robin's black jeans and unzipping them. He pulled apart the "v" of the zip, baring more of his stomach and the top of his white shorts. Slade kissed what was revealed to him and then pulled Robin's jeans to his knees.

The shorts did nothing to restrain him.

Slade ripped them down, taking the jeans off too with the shorts and throwing them aside. What need had the boy for clothes now?

He kissed his most precious part and Robin jerked his hips, putting a hand to his bloody forehead.

"_Uhn_… Slade… so hot…" he moaned. "I don't feel…"

Slade cursed inwardly. Robin was becoming sexually excited; that meant his heart was beating faster. _That_ meant his blood was pumping faster, carrying the poison around his body more quickly, and so…

Forget _twenty_ minutes. He had maybe _ten_, at the most.

"Can we… _later_—"

Robin gasped as Slade engulfed him in his mouth. Pleasure overrode any discomfort he felt and he writhed again, kicking and bucking his hips. Slade wasted no time; he did not tease him in any way. He got the job done hard and fast and Robin's white frothy fountain burst forth in less than a minute.

He swallowed and wiped his mouth and grasped the panting boy by his hips and roughly turned him over on the sheets.

Robin moaned again.

"Please, Slade… I really don't… feel so great…"

"I'm going to make it better."

Slade hurriedly unbuckled his belt and unzipped himself, pulling his mask back on with one hand as he shoved his pants down with the other. He ignored Robin as he began to whine another protest, pressing his hand into the small of his back. Reaching down to Starfire's body with his other hand, he got some of her spilt blood onto his hand and slicked himself with it to make his entrance easier on the dying boy. He positioned himself at Robin's tight opening, pulling him to his hands and knees, and then thrust into him—

Robin's whole body jerked with the sudden force of it, and he cried out in pain; but he was used to this and soon became accustomed to it – the way he always did. He panted and bucked against him, tears streaming down his face from the pain of it; Slade had never hurt him so much, or gone so fast. It was as though there was a sense of _urgency_ to the process…

And liquid pain _burned_ him from _within_; _seared_ him… He felt it coursing through him, like acid or a solution of pure _fire_, were that possible… His cries became screams; his whines became sobs… He was in agony and yet Slade simply continued to pound mercilessly in and out of him. He knew that this was more than just the brutal sex and yet his head ached and was so nebulous he could not begin to think clearly. He could not _rationalize_…

Slade slammed against him one last time and suddenly exploded into him with more force than ever before, a half-moan, half-gasp escaping him upon orgasm. Pushing the limp boy away – where he flopped onto the bed, poison-induced agony devouring him so that he curled up in a little ball of pain – Slade knelt back up and took a breather. _That_ had taxed even _him_ to his limit…

He watched the quivering, sweaty, naked boy curling and writhing on the bed for a second or two; then got up from the mattress and quickly made himself decent, turning back to him when he was done. He stood over the bed, his hands behind his back, as he watched his little bird die.

Robin lifted his head weakly, his eyes wide and frightened and filled with pain.

"_Slade… help me_…" he begged hoarsely, moaning dismally.

Slade tilted his head.

"Alas, my Robin, there is nothing I can do for you now."

Robin let out a choked sob.

"It hurts_… I'm dying!_" He whispered the first two words; and screamed the last two. He gave way to more sobs and writhed nakedly on the sheets, stained in tears and blood and sweat.

"You are indeed." Slade's voice was cold. "But to ease matters, your suffering will end soon; that much I promise to you."

Robin looked up at him again; and this time his eyes were filled not with fear, but burning hatred. Slade could tell even through the mask.

"You… _you_ did this to me!" Robin spat with all the fire he had in his soul. "You… _bastard!_ Starfire… and now… how could you—"

"Simple, sweet boy," Slade interrupted icily. "I told you the price of my compromise. You were not to love another, nor was the girl to interfere. The only two conditions of my promise, and tonight they have both served to be broken. I am a man of my word, Robin; a man of my word indeed…"

"The water…?"

Slade nodded once in an irreverent fashion.

"Poison. I will not stand for a contract, if you will, to be broken. You have broken your word on both counts, Robin, and so you will die by them. You pledged yourself to me, and yet, I find that you are not truly mine to keep; is that not so? And if _I_ cannot have you, my Robin…"

Slade leaned right over the near-dead teenaged boy, his single granite eye flashing.

"…Then rest assured that _no-one_ can…"

Robin made a horrible choking sound and his eyes blazed with pure loathing; a loathing for the man which he had not felt for a very long time…

"_I hate you_…" he hissed, his eyes sliding closed.

Slade smiled grimly.

"_That_, Robin, is precisely the problem…" he whispered in reply.

He watched Robin for a second or two more; as his breathing slowed, his body became limp, and then—

He took one more breath; and then he breathed no more.

Slade sank onto the edge of the bed and pulled the dead boy to him, laying his head in his lap.

No evidence of death aside from the slight blue tinge to his lips; and the fact that he longer breathed and that his heart no longer beat. But he was still warm (of course); hot even, from the events that had taken place only minutes before his death.

Slade pulled him up a little more, clutching him to his chest.

Yes, he was dead. There was nothing anyone could do now. Robin was dead, and he, Slade, had killed him.

Out of jealousy? Perhaps.

But Robin was definitely better six feet under the ground. Safer, and saner. His death roused no emotion in Slade save relief; in death, Robin was truly _his_, and no-one else's.

Not the alien girl's.

Not Batman's.

_His_.

And although that thought gave him comfort, he sat there with his dead teenaged lover clutched to his chest, and realized that he was alone within a purely desolate existence once again.

_Full circle, indeed._

**END**

* * *

Here's hoping you liked it! Narroch06 and I were pretty pleased with the result… It's pretty awesome that we managed to pull two whole extra chapters out of what was pretty much a no-plot piece…

Yes, Slade took off his mask. Yes, we didn't describe what he looks like. Why? Because… been there, done that, not going there again. We already did that whole describing thing in our other RobinxSlade piece _Small Print_ (now isn't _that_ an incentive to go read it?) and considering it wasn't especially… _acclaimed_, we didn't bother this time. You can either use your imagination, read _Small Print_ or go by the "original" version, if you are a fan of the 80s _New Teen Titans_ series.

That's it for now, folks! No more RobinxSlade stuff until the next chapter of _Small Print_.

And BTW, to any readers of _that_… yeah, we have a few nice/nasty (delete as applicable) little surprises in store for y'all…

- RobinRocks xXx


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